Body weaponry: the blades and teeth ignore quite a few armor types, but not power armor and similar.Die Hard: Autumn's endurance has been tested, and she passed with flying colors: she gains +1 Health level for a total of 8.

Autumn has earned 20 character points of which 15 was spent on obtaining 3 specialty dice for mechanics

Name: Autumn Shadow (Autumn for the color of her fur, Shadow after her mothers last name and her quiet competence and stealth.)

Age: 24

Who are you: A drifting mechanic, looking for adventure and a place to call home, eager to seek out new challenges and make her mark on the universe.

Character Personality: Having grown up on Black Water Station among the poor and destitute, she is fiercely protective of other downtrodden people, and will readily attack anyone who tries to take advantage of the dregs of society in her presence. (Think of it as the flaw: Intolerance to bullies)

During her leisure time she enjoys relaxing in a bar with some local drinks and few hands of cards, (or whatever other galactic gambling games there are) finding “high society” to be too snobbish and refined to suit her tastes for long.

Relationship wise she’s never given much thought to anything more serious then a quick roll in the sack with an attractive prospect, (of either gender) knowing her life on board a ship would make any sort of relationship with those not onboard too difficult to bother with. (She has yet to be on a ship with crewmates she found appealing in a romantic way.)

Occupation(s), past and present:

Past: Some body guard and enforcer work on Black Water station, before entering the Employment of Captain Jacques Tanner, a thin mousey man with a shrewd sense of business, but lacking in the physical stature to negotiate effectively.

Jacques used her as the strength behind his trade decrees, her muscle and intimidating growl often making his business partners think twice before threatening his welfare or proposing a lop sided trade agreement.

Jacques also was the one who insisted she learn to be more then his strong arm, and the reason she became such an adept mechanic, a task she finds soothing and almost meditative, the hum and pulse of well tuned machines music to her keen ears.

Briefly seeking new employment after her former Captain got lucky on a series of profitable trade runs and decided to retire off the interest his fortunes earned him in the galactic bank, selling his ship to the Blood Moons mercenary company, who had little use for non affiliated crew members. Having no wish to join a band of bloodthirsty, trigger happy soldiers, Autumn departed with her pay and was confident her skills will find her employment on another ship before long, her job on board the Hollens prize offered soon after..

Physical characteristics:

At 6’2” tall Autumn is an imposing (if still beautiful) sight at her full stature, although like most gene lifted animals she rends to walk in a slight crouch, making her closer to 5’6” in perceived height.

A lover of jewelry, she often wears a wide variety of clip on earrings and perfumes in her fur when off duty, knowing that such luxuries as earrings. if worn in the engine room. would likely lead to a deadly complication.

Gm added tidbits: None yet

Bio/Cybernetic Modifications:

After being in numerous paw to claw fights with other species, many of which were naturally armored, or possessing cyber implants led Autumn to having her claws replaced with Duranium composite ones. Far harder and sharper then basic claws, she’s found they hold up better to not only the rigors of combat, but also to the natural wear and tear of a starship mechanics duties.

She also submitted her self to a gene mod muscle enhancement, carbon fiber bone lacing, and enhanced articulation treatment a few months after being hired by Jacques, finding that manual labor aboard a starship that at times was under multiple G’s for several hours, benefited greatly from increased muscle mass, and when in a near 0g environment the greater flexibility let her move with enough grace to perform complex repairs far quicker then previously possible.

Her last enhancement was an auto cutoff cyber enhancement to keep the loud noises of the engine room (and gunfire) from damaging her keen hearing and prevent costly migraines from interfering with needed tasks.

She’s held off on further enhancement of her body after seeing the effects of EMP on heavily cybered individuals, after a particularly nasty solar flare fried a comrades cyber eyes within their sockets, rendering him blind for several hours until the cyber doc could replace the delicate nano circuitry.

The weapons are similar to normal daggers but far sharper, denser, (and heavier) then conventional blades.

The blades were a gift from her adopted mother the day she reached adulthood (Roughly her 16th birthday) as a symbol of her maturity. These weapons, along with a worn locket containing the picture of her birth mother are her most prized possessions.

A Hellion .454/12 gauge Sledgehammer pistol. (6 .454 caliber charge rounds with a single 12 gauge round in the center, similar to the “lemat” of civil war America.

The Hellion, this weapon is as tough as the skull of targ beast and twice as mean. Often referred to as a “Trail Blazers Companion” the hand cannon is impressive by its size, reliable and durable as only the Hellion can do. Used by the exploration forces across the galaxy due to its impressive stopping power at the expense of multiple rounds. It also comes from the factory with corrosion protection. All things considered, it's the perfect weapon if you go camping on a war zone.

Autumn picked up this weapon after her first body guard job almost six years ago when her previous pistol jammed and got her client (a rather attractive young lady) gravely injured during an assassination attempt.

While large, heavy and loud, she finds its bulk and intimidating barrel sizes make negotiating much easier, and the weapons durability a comfort in deadly situations. Usually she keeps a Flechette round loaded in the shotgun chamber for combat in areas where ricochets could be a problem, relying on the heavy stopping power of the .454 rounds to put an enemy down in fewer shots, lessening the risk of collateral damage from a sustained firefight.

Possessions of note:

A locket with the picture of her birthmother, one of the few possessions she owns that bears any link to her real family. She wears this around her neck next to her dog tags, and values it every bit as much as her life. (She still holds onto the faint hope she will find her birth mother and other family members someday, although she doubts such a thing will ever prove possible.)

1 vial of skunk spray disguised as a perfume bottle. She sprays this unexpectedly into the face of potential attackers she wishes to disable or humiliate rather than kill, or as a distraction/deterrent to discourage pursuit by species with keen noses.

Several sets of clothing, usually one piece dresses, or long sleeved shirts and just above the knee length kilts. She finds her the holes cut into the back of jump suits and pants to accommodate the tails of species to be uncomfortable and difficult to sit in without it pulling on her fur.

A travel sized personal hygiene and grooming kit she usually keeps in her toolbox, for when she needs to quickly clean the engine grease off her paws for a lunch break.

An assortment of tools, diagnostic equipment and a mini plasma welder she wears on her tool belt and carries in a small backpack. Many of the tools have multiple attachments to allow for a wide variety of applications. The heavier and more specialized tools Autumn expects a ship to already have in its engineering area for necessary maintenance and repairs.

A variety of mechanical odds and ends, a few bits of loose wiring and some spare circuits also fill her pockets on a regular basis, be they leftovers from a quick repair job, or extra parts for later maintenance.

Armor:

A set of cerametal body armor, with strap on plates for her arms and legs (similar to the space marine armor from aliens but with arm and leg armor pieces as well)

Personal History:

I grew up an orphan on Black Water station, one of the most run down hunks of trash you’ll find this side of the galactic core. My adopted mother was a gene lifted Black Panther, Rajiahine; she gave me daggers instead of dolls to play with, and showed me the decayed hallways of the station were not places to be feared, but opportunities for excitement, and a chance to make things better for my family.

My family, she carefully explained, were all of those that made a living in the trash strewn corridors and filth ridden vent ducts, those whom the better off station inhabitants had cast down and trod upon. Those that had no where else to go, those like us. Those that refused to give in to our environment and instinct to live like mindless animals, or become cruel and vile gang members.

Over time she trained me to master blades and blunt weapons until they were as much part of me as my fingers, to strike without hesitation or remorse against my enemies or those that preyed on the weak and helpless. "To survive you must never give into the beastial instincts that are your heritage," She used to remind me when I sharpened my blades and claws, dulled from cutting through the makeshift body armor and sinewy muscle of the many enemies I had faced. "When you must use lethal force always kill as quickly and cleanly as possible leaving no trace of your passage except a trail of bodies."

Her firm but loving guidance is what shaped my beliefs, and gave me the courage to hone my skills to a razor edge as sharp as my claws and teeth, and temper my anger. Over time I grew to find myself in the employment of visitors to the station, those who wished to conduct their business in relative safety, eventually finding permanent employment upon a single vessel as the power behind the captain’s voice, willing and able to see his will done without hesitation.

However on a spaceship there is more to survival then conflict, at and the captain’s insistence I learned other skills as well, from simple mechanical maintenance to the basics of piloting, trying my paws at every role onboard to see if any appealed more then others. The role of mechanic I found soothing, the simple logics of machine parts, and how they went together a tranquil puzzle that I could focus upon to ease the adrenaline and boredom from my body.

Piloting I found to be less appealing, long stretches of boredom sailing through empty space interspersed by minutes of frantic activity that could sometimes spell life or death for many. A hunter’s profession and one that would have appealed to my adopted mother far more I fear. My own mind would often wander and I would find myself drifting into a complacent sleep, only dimly aware of the controls and sensors surrounding me. Much more the job of a feline then canine, but still one I could perform if necessary.

Medic? A role for prey species, not predators. The scent of blood excited me far too much, stirred the primal instincts I had learned to keep under careful control, threatened to cloud my judgment and jeopardize the life of my patient. It was not a job I tried for long before quickly changing tasks to something less stimulating to my predatory senses.

Cook was perhaps the only job on board I didn't try my paws at practicing, my own tastes running more towards raw meats and undercooked blood stews, stomach turning to the palettes of the humans and vegetarian creatures on board, and not what one could truly call cooking at all.

In the end I chose to return to the more soothing mechanical past times, and became quite adept at repair and restoration, even if I never did quite get used to the feel of grease on my fur.

You wish to know more? Well there are a lot of things I could tell you, like about the time I took a stand against a group of twisted slavers seeking young children from among the street trash for their brothels and bar menus, or when I fought a group of local thugs in desperate attempt to buy time for my friends to escape an ambush. A lot of memories and a lot of time…